So, you're a prisoner?

It was baseball galore last night as we went to watch the beginning of Jake's tournament games. They beat Camden....actually the mercy rule had to be used....so they were done after three innings. Then we headed west to Jonesville where Luke was playing a double header. JW missed the game, he's at an FFA officer training camp in Lansing.

We arrived in time to watch most of the second game, they lost both. Luke said he pitched, played third and then wound up catching. Then it was time for ice cream! We went to the Udder Side where they have the best deal. They keep all their mistakes, put them in cups and stick them in the freezer. These delicious, cheap treats are called "Cow Piles" and they only cost 50 cents. If your lucky, you could wind up with a misshapen banana split, a screwed up flurry or just a cup of ice cream. Anyway you scoop it, it's a great deal and it's always a surprise!

Tonight Bobby and JW will ump again. I guess they had a couple of close calls the other night, close enough to make the coach come out onto the field and argue. First he argued with JW and then got on Bobby's case. Bobby told him if he wanted to stay and coach he needed to get back in the dugout and be quiet! I wish I could've been there but no, I was in the gas station making an idiot out of myself!

An idiot you ask? Let me explain. I walked into Buddy's and there were about 6 men in there with bright orange vests on. Spotting the 12 passenger van they were riding in, I automatically assumed they were prisoners out on work release. Yes, I know, you're laughing already.

It was when they began to flirt with me that my suspicions were confirmed....yes....jailbirds who haven't had close contact with a female in quite some time....yep...prisoners. Here was the conversation:

Me: "So, are you guys prisoners or what?"

Them: "Yep"

Me: "Oh, so they let you out to do work huh?"

Them: "Yep"

Me: "That's kind of nice."

Them: "No, you're kind of nice lookin'"

Me: No comment and nervously shopping, headed to the far corner of the store.

Since they were taking so long I finally got in line behind one of the more honest looking, well groomed guys with the least scariest tattoos.

Me: "So, what kind of work did they let you do?"

Honest looking prisoner: "Ma'am, we're not prisoners, we're working gas well drillers, we've been working around here for weeks."

Me: "Seriously? Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm sorry. I'm such a fool!"

Him: Smiles and smirks.

Me: Paying for my goods and getting the heck out of there.

Of course then when I went to get in the truck, it wouldn't start. I knew as soon as I lifted the hood, they would pile out of their van and head toward me to help a damsel in distress. So I tried to act confident like I knew exactly what was wrong. It didn't work, it wouldn't start, so I decided to leave the truck and walk to the ball field. I really just wanted to leave as quick as I could. Walking down the side walk, yes you guessed it, they came driving up beside me and stopped, opened the door and said, "Hey, you need a hand with your truck? We'll be glad to help you."

Me: "Oh, thank you so much for the offer, buy my HUSBAND is right over there at the ball field and I'm just going to go get him, he'll fix it. But thanks anyway."

Them: "Are you sure, we'll be glad to give you a hand." Smiles and winks.

Me: I bet you would. "Really, thanks but my HUSBAND will take care of it."

And much to my relief they drove off. That is the last time I talk to people in bright orange vests with lots of tattoos riding in 12 passenger vans!